New Beginnings
by afullmargin
Summary: Explicit in parts. Season 6 AU where Henry and Karen are working things out romantically behind the scenes.
1. Awakening

**Rating**: PG

**Spoilers**: Episdoe 6x02 "Last Night Gus"

**Notes**: The first in a series of stories written for older_not_dead promptathon 9 that take place over the course of season 6.

**Prompt**: ?. ?/?. Awakening

**Disclaimer**: This is a work of fictional parody in no way intended to infringe upon the rights of any individual or corporate entity. Any and all characters or celebrity personae belong to their rightful owners. Absolutely no money has or will be gained from this work. Please do not publicly link, repost or redistribute without letting me know first.

**Written**: 5/2012

* * *

She didn't say a word about it until she was driving Henry home, catching glances of him on the passenger side of the sedan with one damp towel wrapped around his drying shoulders and another around his waist – watching him look anywhere but at her.

"Do you remember anything about what happened last night?" She asked casually, looking back to the road.

He shook his head, his words coming out a low croak; "No. Not a damn thing after the bar until I woke up at the hotel." He couldn't believe how scared he'd been when thought he actually hired a call girl – which was not only illegal, but sleazy as hell. And sadly, it'd been his first thought… what did that say about him?

"No flashes of anything, maybe the donut place? Or did you check your phone and see if you made any calls?"

Even hung over and ready to crawl into bed with a big bottle of aspirin and an even bigger bottle of water, he got loud and clear what Karen was asking. "Battery's dead, guess I called you, huh?"

"Yeah," she replied; "a few times, actually. It was sort of a long message."

For a long moment, he didn't respond and when he did it was to ask; "How bad was it?"

Karen laughed under her breath; "Uh… well, I guess that depends." She shook her head and pulled into his driveway before retrieving her cell phone from her purse and queuing up her voicemail.

_You have zero new messages. Four saved messages…_

Of course she'd saved them. "Karen, I…"

"No, no – it's only fair you hear the evidence being presented against you."

_Message one; twelve twenty-three am._

The recording clicked and they could hear loud noise in the background. "Karen… Karen…." Henry's voice slurred; "This is Henry. Uh, Henry Spencer. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. I jus' had a revelation!"

Several voices laughed on the recording and the heard Lassiter's voice in the background; "You tell her, Spencer! Tell her that you… you are a beautiful human being and if she doesn't leave that loser husband that's never around…"

In the car, Henry groaned audibly just as his own voice cut in; "Shut up, I'm talkin' to the lady I love here… Anyway, Karen. You make me feel…"

Shawn's voice in the background sang; "Like a nat-u-ral woman!"

"God damnit, shut up Shawn. I'm being serious here!"

_End of message. Message two, twelve forty-six am._

"Sorry babe, I had to get away from those jokers… where was I? Crap… I don't remember. Anyway, what I was calling you to do is say that you are…" he hiccupped loudly and barely concealed a burp; "You are amazing and you make me feel like a million bucks and like I'm alive and waking up for the first time on a Sunday afternoon… Like a… like a… a ray of… uh, damn it. I don't know. You know what I mean."

As they listened, Henry sighed audibly; "God, Karen… I'm sorry I made an ass of myself."

"Oh, it gets better…" she replied.

The next message had started; "I love you… I honestly love you…" Henry sang drunkenly over the recording; "You don't have to answer… I can see it in your eyes…"

"Please make it stop." Henry reached for the phone only to have his hand batted away. Wisely, Karen skipped the remainder of the song to the next message.

_Message four, two thirty-two am._

"Christ Karen, look… maybe I'm way too drunk to be calling right now… but I needed to say this. Maybe the scotch woke me up or I don't… Damn it, okay. I love you. G'night." And then a rusting sound was followed by silence until they could hear the shallow, raspy breaths of Henry's drunken sleep.

Karen ended the call and looked at him with an almost curious expression. "So, you were pretty inebriated there."

"Karen, I swear to you, that will never happen again." Henry couldn't even bring himself to look at her, a deep red blush coloring from his neck, up behind his ears across the top of his head. "I was drugged."

"Well, obviously you thought you had some sort of awakening… I mean, I never thought you were the kind of guy that would call singing Olivia Newton-John songs on my voicemail after midnight. This is the first time I've heard anything about this."

Henry groaned and attempted to open the door only to have Karen hit the safety locks. "Karen, I'm humiliated, okay? I don't want to talk about being an idiot."

"Fine, then don't. But I'm not opening the doors until you tell me what's going on."

Forcing himself to look at her, Henry replied; "What do you want from me, Karen? Last night's Henry apparently thought that he was having some mind blowing awakening and thought it would be a bright idea to call you and fill you in on it. Today's Henry thinks I'm an idiot."

She looked down at the console between them and after a moment's hesitation asked; "Is it true? Are you in love with me?"

A small, awkward and nearly frightened sound escaped his throat only to be quelled by a loud grunt. "Karen, I… look, I know what the situation is, okay? You're married, you've got a little kid and… you're my boss. I'm not allowed to even think about that sort of thing and it was way out of line for me to call you while I was drinking."

"You didn't answer my question, Henry. Do you… love… me?"

He sighed and looked back to the window, shifting uneasily in his towel. "We both know how I get when I drink. I say things that I've got no right saying."

"But you never lie." Karen tentatively reached across the console, letting her hand rest on the damp towel against his thigh.

"Yeah, well… for what it's worth."

"Would you just answer the damn question, Henry?"

"Fine," he shot back, turning toward her; "I guess… yeah. Yeah, I might. All right? I know it can't happen and I can deal with that so you don't need to put me through that whole 'let him down easy' speech. I get it."

Karen's fingers curled in the terrycloth and then, unexpectedly, she leaned forward and silenced him with kiss. For a moment, they were both frozen – lips pressed together as though waiting for the other to panic and call it off, and then Henry's tongue swept across her lower lip and it was all right. She opened to him, leaning closer with her elbow braced against the steering wheel as he unbuckled his seatbelt and pushed toward her. It could have been an hour in that simple moment, but they both broke when her arm slipped and caught the horn – emitting a tiny 'beep'.

"Oh boy," Henry sighed; "Look, Karen… I'm sorry…"

"I kissed you, Henry. You have nothing to be sorry about. I was just… I wanted to figure something out."

"Yeah?"

She nodded; "Yeah."

"Well, did you?" He sat back in the seat, red-faced and having difficulty looking her in the eyes.

Slowly, she nodded; "Maybe I did."

Another silent moment lingered between them and then she unlocked the doors. "I'll, uh… I'll see you in the morning, Henry. You should probably get some rest… you've had a hell of a day."

"Yeah, I have." He watched her, waiting for something more, and then leaned in to kiss her again, only to catch her cheek and a clump of blonde hair.

"Good night, Henry."


	2. Friends Become Lovers

**Rating**: Teen

**Notes**: Written for older_not_dead promptathon 9.

**Prompt**: ?. ?/?. Friends become lovers.

**Disclaimer**: This is a work of fictional parody in no way intended to infringe upon the rights of any individual or corporate entity. Any and all characters or celebrity personae belong to their rightful owners. Absolutely no money has or will be gained from this work. Please do not publicly link, repost or redistribute without letting me know first.

**Written**: 5/2012

* * *

It was a few days before they could even look at each other again, so Henry was surprised when not long after he received a text message from Karen on his day off.

_Dinner at your place, five sharp. We'll talk._

Even reading it, he could hear her making it clear that it's non-negotiable. Which made it even more confusing each time he looked at it to make sure it said what he thought it said. So they'd talk – talking is good, maybe. They could talk about the stuff he left out of Psych's official report on the case. Of course, he was pretty damn sure that's not what she was in the mood to discuss.

_Got it what am I making?_

_Anything you want. Just be there._

That message was even clearer. Figuring it was for the best, he cleared his calendar – sorry Gus, learning to make ravioli can wait – and ensured the place was presentable and a roast was ready to go on the table when she showed up with a bottle of red wine.

"Karen," he smiled, opening the door at exactly five; "this your way of inviting me on a dinner date?"

"I didn't use that word, Henry. You did. I'm just here to talk." Even she sounded like she wasn't so sure on the matter. "Wow, it smells really good in here… is that… pot roast?"

"Yup." Henry nodded; "Just getting ready to pull it out of the oven and plate up if you're hungry."

"Starving, I skipped lunch to finish the paperwork on the Caminos. The DA was pretty shocked at the wealth of evidence we were able to dig up." She took off her suit jacket and slung it over the back of Henry's sofa before stepping out of her shoes and making her way to the table.

"Make yourself at home," Henry replied, watching her from the kitchen as he made a pair of plates straight out of the roaster.

"Don't mind if I do." She invited herself to the wine glasses, taking the corkscrew off his wet bar straight to the dinner table to pour a glass for each of them. "You know, Henry… you're something else. I definitely wasn't expecting a homemade pot roast dinner."

"Why's that?" he brought out the plates, setting both on the table before retrieving silverware. "It's not that hard to make and takes up a few hours while I pick up a bit."

"I've seen how you keep house, Henry. I'm sure you didn't have to pick up much."

"Yeah, well… I threw a nap in there too." He grinned sheepishly, finally sitting at the head of the table. "I remembered you really liked it the last time I brought you dinner."

She couldn't help but smile, hiding a slight blush behind a large sip of wine. Leave it to Henry Spencer to remember her enjoying pot roast three years ago. "Thank you, Henry. I know its short notice but I thought now that things aren't as uncomfortable we should probably talk about what happened."

He finished chewing his bite and swallowed, looking down at his plate as he skewered a gravy-heavy potato. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean, Henry. The phone calls, that kiss…"

"We don't have to talk about that." He took another large bite.

Karen sighed, taking several bites herself – relishing the flavor that only he seemed to be able to produce – and then said the one thing she knew would open up the floor. "I think we should sleep together."

Henry dropped his fork with a loud clatter against the plate and took the napkin out of his shirt collar. "Karen, I… I…"

"No, you're going to listen to me now." She spoke calmly, evenly, between bites. "We both know that there's been this sort of thing between us since you came back. Neither of us has been ready to acknowledge it, but it's there."

"I…"

"No. You said that you think you're in love with me." The words came out easily, without the hint of mocking that would imply she disagreed. "And we need to deal with that."

"By sleeping together? That is the craziest…" Karen folded her arms across her chest and gave him a stern look and he apologized; "Sorry, go ahead."

"When I kissed you the other day, I wanted to be sure that it was something I wanted and not just a thrill from getting attention and feeling like I had power over you." She sighed; "And now, I'm pretty sure that I want this to happen. On our terms."

"Can I talk now?" Henry frowned, and when she nodded he responded; "Sleeping together isn't going to change anything, even if this is mutual… which I don't even know for sure… it just means that instead of a drunken confession and one kiss we've got this whole other thing to deal with.

"Why wouldn't it be mutual, Henry? I mean… you told me yourself – sober – that you _love_ me."

"I said I _might_ love you… I don't know, okay – it's confusing and awkward and a really, really bad idea to go down that road. You're a happily married woman, even if you weren't my boss…"

"Okay, for one, Henry," her voice took on a hard note; "we both know that if we do this, it's not going to have any impact in our career – I will still treat you the same way I always have. Two, just because I'm married doesn't mean I'm happy and I think we both know that."

"Fine, but…"

"No 'but', Henry. I'm being serious here; if you want to give this a try then we should see where it goes."

A long silent moment passed between them and Karen casually ate her dinner as though they weren't talking about drastically changing everything. After she'd finished her first glass of wine and a significant amount of her meal, Henry said; "We're friends, Karen. I don't want to lose you as a friend if we go through with this."

"That's not going to happen." Karen laid down her fork and knife and then daintily wiped her lips and dropped her napkin on her plate. "You do make a delicious pot roast."

And like that, Henry realized she was putting the ball in his court – he'd have to make the decision to buy into her oddly simple request or keep things as they were. He wasn't used to sex being discussed so candidly – like they were talking about going to a ballgame or who's picking up donuts in the morning. He waited, considering everything she had said, as she poured out another round of wine and he cleared the table. Halfway through his second glass, still waiting for her to say something, he quietly said; "Okay, how is this going to work out?"

An easy smile curled her lips and she said; "I think it might be easiest for us to get the sex part out of the way first – so it's not hanging over us when we go out on a date."

"Wait, now there's dating too?"

"Well, I'm not the kind of girl that just sleeps with a guy she's not even dating." She grinned, laughing softly. "What, you don't want to go out on date?"

"No, no… a date would be great… I'm just not used to being told I'm going have one while I'm talking about sleeping with someone."

"Good, right. Well, I think maybe we should go upstairs and see what happens!" She pushed up on her feet, all smiles with that easy air about her that made it simple enough for Henry to just accept what she was saying at face value. He could do it. They… could maybe try working it out.

"So, what… now we're dating?"

She rolled her eyes, reaching for his hands. "We can still be friends, Henry. Just… friends that are maybe trying out being more than just friends."

"Trying out…" he nodded slowly, letting her help him up. "…right, okay. Yeah. Let's try this out."

"That's the Henry Spencer I know." She grasped his shirt by the wood buttons down the front of the hibiscus print, pulling him in close; "And the one I want to get to know better."


	3. Interlude

Rating: Explicit

Notes: Interlude that takes place immediately after "Friends Become Lovers".

Disclaimer: This is a work of fictional parody in no way intended to infringe upon the rights of any individual or corporate entity. Any and all characters or celebrity personae belong to their rightful owners. Absolutely no money has or will be gained from this work. Please do not publicly link, repost or redistribute without letting me know first.

Written: 5/2012

* * *

"I can't believe we're doing this," Henry laughed nervously as Karen gave another hard tug at his shirt, her fingers opening buttons as she led him through the living room and toward the stairs. "This is nuts."

"We can stop if you want." She pushed up and kissed him again, deep and hard. When she managed his shirt open, one arm looped easily around his waist and the other raked through the scattering of blond and gray chest hair.

He laughed again, less nervous than before with the warmth of her touch. "No, this is good… but I can't do the stairs backward."

"Aw, damn," she teased; "that's a deal breaker."

Henry rolled his eyes and took the hand on his chest between both of his, turning to lead her upstairs. By the time they made it to his bedroom door, she'd already stripped off her blouse and he had to pull her against him to stop her hands at the clasp of her bra. "Slow down, babe… we're not in a race here."

"Don't you tell me to slow down, Mister." She grinned, leaning in to nip at his lips as she kissed him, hands eagerly tugging at his belt. "I haven't done this in a couple years…" her eyes were wide, wild and clearly not lying; "…I think I've earned it."

He knew what he had to do; he just never thought he'd be doing it. "I think that you're not the boss here," he murmured back, twisting the doorknob and using her to push the door open as he seized both of her wrists; "I'm taking over."

"Oh-ho-ho!" She laughed, "Is that so? I'd like to see you…"

With a quick thrust of his hips, he forced her hard against the door – letting it slam against the wall behind her – holding her tightly against the wood. "Try?" He grinned even wider, lifting her hands above her head as his kisses moved away from her mouth and down the slope of her throat.

"Oh God, Henry…" she breathed, attempting to wiggle her wrists free against the strong grasp. Nobody had ever challenged her before, certainly not in the bedroom and rarely anywhere else.

"Tell me what you want, Karen." He swallowed hard, his teeth catching the ridge of her earlobe; "Ask for it and I'll give it to you."

"Henry…" she swallowed hard, pushing back against his solid body as he held her down. "Please…"

"Good start, please what?" He nipped a little harder, and then let his tongue lick over the pink spot to soothe.

She let out a nervous groan, clearly unsure of what was going on – but enjoying it. "Uh… bed. Please? On your bed?"

It was a simple enough request and Henry backed away – holding her wrists between them as he led her back to the bed. As an afterthought, he turned her around and guided her gently down to the mattress and murmured; "You look good there." As much as his dominance was bravado, that much was utterly true, just the sight of her disheveled in what remained of the pantsuit she'd worn to work all day – her makeup smudged slightly and blonde hair pressed back against his sheets... she was a vision, exactly as he'd imagined she would be. Aiming to tease, he shouldered off his shirt and tossed it toward the open hamper, and then made quick work of opening his belt, leaving his khaki shorts on just a little longer. "You know, I've dreamed about this, right?"

A warm flush colored her cheeks and she turned her head slightly; "Oh, Henry…"

"And not just in a cute, awkward kind of way. I'm talking, having you. Taking what I want."

She looked up at him, one hand lingering between her breasts as the other stroked over his worn cotton sheets. "And what do you want?"

That small question was enough to draw him up on the bed, pushing her until she was laid out sideways across the middle and he was easily crouched above her. "You," he answered without hesitation, his lips brushing over hers; "All of you."

Karen took a deep breath and let it out slowly, both hands once more drawn to Henry's open belt where she thumbed open his button and pulled apart the zipper before pushing them down his hips with a pair of boxer briefs that caught on something she couldn't see, but could sure feel against her inner thigh through her slacks. "You don't have to take it, it's yours."

She was good, beyond good, at pushing his buttons – making him want her even more. "Then relax, let me do this."

Slowly, her eyes locked on his, she nodded assent. "Okay… I can do that." Her tone gave away that she wasn't entirely certain, but he could work with that – especially when all uncertainty was lost when he kissed down the angle of her chin, against her throat, and then worked his way toward the edge of the bed as his lips found her breasts. "Should I…"

"Karen," he chastised, kissing along the soft edge of one cup as his fingers teased her through the thick cotton of the other. "Let me."

She sighed, a hint of a groan catching in her throat, tense until she focused on the subtle brush of his lips and tongue, the gentle pinch of his fingertips against her nipple through her bra – just enough make her warm and leave her wanting even more. "Please…" she breathed, lifting her hips enough to feel his manhood shift against her – already starting to get hard with the easy tease.

"I told you, we're not in a race…" He gently nipped the top of her breast before shifting the hand that was teasing underneath to open the trio of hooks anyway.

"Actually," she sighed, lifting back up against him, "I kind of promised the sitter I'd be home by seven."

He lowered his head, briefly catching the time on his watch – yeah, already going on six. "No problem… I can work with that." He looked back up at her and lifted an eyebrow; "Next time let me know first?"

"Next time?" She grinned again, letting out a low groan when he pushed up the loosened bra and took one hard nipple between his lips. "Mmm, who says this isn't a onetime thing?"

Laughing under his breath, he let up on her with a hard flick of his tongue – watching her mouth hang open with a silent groan. "We'll see, won't we?"

Scrambling as he pushed himself down to straddle her hips, she forced down her slacks, her panties ending up twisted around one ankle in her hasty shedding of clothes. "Yes, we will…"

Of course, there was no question – he knew for sure when he knelt between her knees and her thighs opened to him, her hips tilting up until he nuzzled against the damp cleft of her sex. She wanted him, and it wasn't his imagination, it wasn't the thrill of the forbidden; it was real and there. "Mmm, Karen…" he groaned, brushing the bridge of his nose up the length of her slit and spreading her open for the warm flat lap of his tongue.

It'd been a long time since she'd felt that kind of touch, and not exactly like _that_ and each long lick was enough to draw out a soft sound of approval. When he gently held her open with one hand, the other rubbed over her inner thigh – holding her back even as her muscles threatened to clamp down around his ears the tighter the knot in her belly got. "Oh God… Henry… where did you learn to do that?"

He chuckled low in his throat, letting the vibration buzz against her sex before pulling away – licking his lips. "It's my secret, can't give that one away."

"Don't stop!" She growled, struggling to grab a pillow and bat at his head even as he teased her; "God, I'm close…"

"I know." He laughed easily, pressing small, damp kisses to her belly. "Relax; I'm not done with you yet."

Before she could protest or swat at him again with the large pillow, she once more felt the warm perfection of his mouth on her – licking and sucking and making her brain feel just a little bit like melted chocolate. "Ah… better not…" she sighed, grinding down into his maw.

Admittedly, he loved the enthusiasm – even the way her thighs closed down on his ears as he dragged her over the edge, her increasingly loud cries filling the room until he forced himself back up on top of her, silencing it with a hot, musky kiss.

Eager, maybe even enjoying the taste of herself on his lips, Karen pushed up hard against the kiss, opening her mouth to his tongue. When he guided himself inside her, she broke away with a loud, pleased moan. "Yes… please… fuck… please…" she swore loudly, both hands finding his shoulders and digging in hard. "Please, Henry… I need you… please…"

There wasn't a chance in hell he was going to stop, not when he felt her tight and hot around him as he thrust slowly against her, taking her one small rock of his hips at a time to draw out the sensation until he was finally hilted as deeply inside her as he could be. When he moaned her name under his breath, she kissed him again and holding on to control and logic just wasn't going to happen. The gentle, hitching thrusts gave way to long, purposeful strokes – his eyes locked on her and watching each twitch of her lips, the way her tongue darted out when he dug hard against her, the way her closed eyelids fluttered each time he withdrew and slammed back inside her, driving her closer to the edge. "Karen…" he groaned loudly, drawing her attention and the sweet gaze of her lust-filled eyes; "I want you." It was awkward, but the only way he could grasp to say exactly what he was feeling at that moment; the certainty of his knowledge that he wanted not only what they were doing, but everything that came with it. All of her, not just the bedroom. "All of you."

Her legs trembled, her knees weak and body flushed hot as she danced on the edge of another hard orgasm. Damn him, damn Henry and those sweet eyes and the way he made her feel wanted and needed and loved. "God Henry," she panted, clenching tighter around him as his strokes grew more erratic and the steady slap of skin against skin tapered off; "take me."

It was enough, the thought that she was there with him – not just physically – sank in hard. "Yes…" he gasped, hilting even harder against her pelvis and then offering several hard, quick thrusts as she tightened and flashed hot around him when she came. Growling low and loud, she was still in the clouds when he felt himself slip. It was all he could do to pull out, forcing himself to stroke the tip of his cock against her thigh as he came, streaking her soft skin.

Panting, shaking, Karen laughed – her arms wrapped around his shoulders and dragged him down on top of her as she laughed breathlessly. "Oh god… Henry…"

"Yeah…" he grinned, trying to read her as best as his foggy mind could; she seemed happy – which was a bit of a relief. "Sorry, I… I almost, you know…"

"It's okay;" she nodded, peppering his cheek with kisses. "You… you were okay, to – you know."

"Inside?" The question felt even more awkward than he imagined it would be, but at the moment it wasn't too hard to ask.

Her laugh shifted into an easy giggle, a rare thing to hear out of the Chief, and she nodded up at him – kissing his lips. "Yes."

"I'll keep that in mind," he sighed, finally rolling onto his back to catch his breath from the quick pace. "Did we make time?"

Waiting until she could stop giggling, Karen reached for his wrist and held it up where she could see his watch; "Thirty-six minutes… impressive."

"What're you kidding," He managed up onto one elbow, offering a sly grin; "That was a rush job – just wait until I get you for a few hours.

"Hours?"

He licked his lips, flopping back down against the mattress; "You'll see."


	4. Business Hours

**Rating**: Gen

**Summary**: For the Chief, there is no such thing as 'business hours'.

**Notes**: Written for older_not_dead promptathon 9: New Beginnings.

**Prompt**: ?. ?/?. Business hours

**Disclaimer**: This is a work of fictional parody in no way intended to infringe upon the rights of any individual or corporate entity. Any and all characters or celebrity personae belong to their rightful owners. Absolutely no money has or will be gained from this work. Please do not publicly link, repost or redistribute without letting me know first.

**Written**: 5/2012

* * *

The station was, and always would be, important to both of them. It was their place of work and as such, where they had to remain professional no matter what the situation. Even when the situation was Henry watching Karen from his desk as she went over stacks of reports and made phone calls and conducted meetings. Or when Karen made a special trip to check in with Lassiter and O'Hara just to pass by his desk and smile.

Even if it was getting increasingly difficult to concentrate through the course of the day, they made it through just fine… and when they were both lucky enough to be able to get away, they made a point of finding time together outside of business hours. Sometimes, unfortunately, work interfered with that.

Henry lingered by the vending machine, sipping his coffee as he pretended to be deliberating between Baby Ruth or Crunch until Lassiter had left the Chief's office with Shawn and Gus trailing close behind. Figuring he could steal at least ten minutes of privacy with her, he made sure nobody was paying particularly close attention to and slipped into Karen's office.

"Can I help you?" She asked as he closed the door, not looking up until after he'd closed the blinds; "What do you think…"

"It won't take long," Henry cut her off short, leaning across the desk to press a hasty kiss to her stunned lips; "I had to see you."

"Henry," she cautioned, "you are dangerously close…"

"Nothing dirty," he smiled, eyes fixed on her as he dug a pair of tickets out of his pocket. "I just miss you."

"It's only been a few days…"

"Six days." Henry sighed, proffering the expensive concert tickets; "tomorrow is our weekly date night and I took the liberty of getting box seats."

Karen's face drew up into a mixture of a smile and a grimace. It was really sweet of him to go to the trouble, and she'd meant to tell him sooner… it all just sort of got away from her. She'd had a very busy week processing new recruits and really didn't even know what day it was anymore. "I… I can't…"

"You can and you will. I told you, I'll spend my money spoiling you when I want to." He grinned wider; "I'll pick you up at six and afterward I've got reservations at that fancy Italian place you like."

"No, Henry…" she sighed, her brows coming together and the corners of her mouth wrinkling. "I can't do anything until I get through these new recruits… there's no way I'm going to be able to get away tomorrow night. I meant to tell you – I guess it just sort of slipped my mind."

Henry's stomach sank and he nodded slowly. He understood, of course. Business hours didn't mean much when your job was mothering the whole damn city. "I should have checked…"

"No, no… I should have told you, my memory's just been terrible lately." She sighed, handing him back the tickets. "How about we do something special on Saturday? I can get a sitter…"

He adamantly shook his head; "No. Saturday's the only day you get with Iris to yourself. It can wait; we'll maybe do something next week."

"Not maybe," Karen shot back; "I promise, next week, you and me. Date night."

A thin smile crossed his lips and Henry folded the tickets in his hands, somehow he doubted the show would be any good without her there to share it. With some hesitation, he leaned in again and kissed the corner of her mouth. "I know I'll be waiting."

"I mean, Henry. No excuses, I'll be there."

He nodded, heading for the door. "I'm sure you will be." Unless duty calls again, which was always possible with her.

On the way back to his desk, he caught Shawn pestering the detectives and pressed the tickets in his hand; "Box seats, have a good time. Ask Juliet _first_ and then, if she can't go, take Gus."


	5. First (Or Last) Dance

**Rating**: Gen

**Summary**: Karen promised Henry the last dance of the night.

**Notes**: Written for the older_not_dead promptathon 9: New Beginnings.

**Prompt**: ?. ?/?. First (or last) dance

**Disclaimer**: This is a work of fictional parody in no way intended to infringe upon the rights of any individual or corporate entity. Any and all characters or celebrity personae belong to their rightful owners. Absolutely no money has or will be gained from this work. Please do not publicly link, repost or redistribute without letting me know first.

**Written**: 5/2012

* * *

He'd wanted to go to the dinner, but ultimately understood why Lassiter got to go schmooze with the city's top brass – and Karen. It was dangerous enough that they had a budding relationship at all… showing up together to a fancy dinner party where no less than half the invited guests could remove her as Chief of Police would be beyond stupid.

Instead, as a consolation to him after an evening of frustrated griping that they hadn't even had a proper elegant date with dinner and dancing, she agreed to stop by on the way home for a piece of pie and the last dance. "My lady?" Henry asked with a smile as he opened the door while she walked up the front steps in her sparkly cocktail dress.

"Henry Spencer…" she grinned, shaking her head while she looked him up and down. He'd really pulled out all the stops for a nightcap and pie; including a black suit and bow tie with the sound of slow jazz on the stereo in the living room. "What is all this?"

His smile stretched even wider as he took her by the hand, closing the door behind them. "I believe you promised me the last dance."

"You can't be serious." She rolled her eyes, letting him pull her into an embrace no less. "You put on a suit at ten o'clock at night to dance with me?"

He nodded; "If it's worth doing, it's worth doing it right." He leaned closer, cheek to cheek as he led her in a simple swaying step. Nothing fancy, just a couple of long songs of easy closeness.

"You know you're amazing, right?" Karen murmured against his ear; "A girl could get used to this sort of thing."

He chuckled and turned her around on her sore feet with a slight flourish. "All part of my dastardly plan to make you fall madly in love with me."

She giggled, feeling twice as drunk on his gentle tease as on the glasses of wine she'd had at dinner. "Well, Mister Spencer, I think someday your plan just might work."

Henry returned his lips to the curve of her ear with a kiss and said; "I made a strawberry pie."

"And it's looking better by the minute."


	6. Garden

**Rating**: Gen

**Summary**: Henry and Iris work in the garden.

**Notes**: For older_not_dead promptathon 9: New Beginnings.

**Prompt**: ?. ?/?. Garden

**Disclaimer**: This is a work of fictional parody in no way intended to infringe upon the rights of any individual or corporate entity. Any and all characters or celebrity personae belong to their rightful owners. Absolutely no money has or will be gained from this work. Please do not publicly link, repost or redistribute without letting me know first.

**Written**: 5/2012

* * *

Henry had volunteered to watch Iris for a few hours while Karen slept in on her Saturday off; it was the least he could do for keeping her up late before letting her leave his place Friday night. When he'd arrived, the little girl was already awake and sitting in front of the television with a half-eaten bowl of dry Froot Loops and he couldn't help but be reminded of Shawn at that age back when he'd come home from patrol and find him and sometimes Gus curled up with their cereal in front of Saturday morning cartoons. It wasn't much different than last Saturday when he showed up at the Psych office, really.

Just like he used to do then and tried to do the week before, he gave her a half hour of crunching in silence before dragging her outside for some sunshine. Thankfully, she was more interested it than Shawn ever was.

"My mom's planting flowers," she said softly, leading him to a small crate of bulbs and a freshly prepared plot big enough for at least half of them.

Never one to shy away from digging in the dirt, Henry hiked up his shorts and knelt in the still-damp earth and plucked a root from the crate. "You know what this is?"

She nodded and tentatively kneeled beside him, taking the triangular label in her hand; "A flower."

He chuckled under his breath and pointed to the picture of the soft purple-blue blooms; "They're called 'bearded irises' – just like you."

The girl giggled and raised a curious eyebrow at him, "I don't have a beard."

"Fair enough," he nodded, tracing the edge of the picture on the name card, "but you see how the petals on the flower are sort of like a beard? That's why it's called that."

She seemed satisfied with his answer and replaced the card in the box, watching as he turned the root over in his hand and took out his pocket knife. "Why are you cutting it?"

He trimmed off the end of the root and then set it in the middle of the loose soil filling a hole that had already been dug. "It needs to be small enough grow," he answered simply, picking up the trowel to cover it.

"Let me." Iris took the small hand trowel away and slowly scraped the soil into place. With an easy shrug, Henry started on the next root and set it gently in the next hole – working quietly side by side with the girl. As she covered the fourth, she quietly asked; "Are you my mom's boyfriend?"

"I… uh…" he stammered, licking his lips before sternly asking; "Why'd you ask that?"

She shrugged, one small bow-knotted shoulder of her sundress slipping down. "Daddy asked me if she had one and I told him I didn't know but she said she was going out on a date last week when Detective Lassiter asked her to come in on Wednesday night."

Henry chuckled under his breath, putting together why she'd been dodging the silent buzz of her cellphone all night, and then frowned at the thought of a kid being grilled over something so petty when the papers have already been filed. "You did the right thing, Iris."

"You didn't say 'yes' or 'no'."

She was definitely her mother's daughter, and would undoubtedly make a good detective someday. "I guess…" he searched for the right way to put it, things were still up in the air and there was no real way to know for sure _what_ they were, only that they were something; "…I hope maybe I will be some day."

Apparently pleased with his answer, Iris covered the last bulb and looked up at him with a smile – wiping the dirt from where it had spilled over her hands. Regarding him, studying his face with the critical eye that only a child could manage, she said; "Daddy doesn't like you. He says you're a grumpy old man."

Henry snorted and half-shrugged; "Well, I can't argue with old man… and I guess I can be kind of grumpy." He brushed off his own hands and then pushed up with a groan comprised of creaky knees and an awkward angle; "What do you think, kiddo?"

She hesitated, offering her hand for him to help her up. Looking out over her little garden, she answered; "I think Mom likes you – when she says your name it's always happy."

A slight blush tinged his cheeks and he pulled his baseball cap lower as though it might protect him from it; "Yeah? She talks about me?"

Iris giggled and shrugged again; "I guess so."

He was going to ask more, but before he could the girl darted off toward the house again, tugging at the doorknob. "Where you going?"

"I don't want to be here when the gardener comes because we did his job." She grinned, managing open the heavy door.


	7. First Fight

**Rating**: G

**Summary**: Their first argument might be their last.

**Notes**: Written for older_not_dead promptathon 9, New Beginnings. Episode tag for 6x08 The Tao of Gus.

**Spoilers**: The Tao of Gus, Shawn Rescues Darth Vader

**Prompt**: ?. ?/?. First fight

**Disclaimer**: This is a work of fictional parody in no way intended to infringe upon the rights of any individual or corporate entity. Any and all characters or celebrity personae belong to their rightful owners. Absolutely no money has or will be gained from this work. Please do not publicly link, repost or redistribute without letting me know first.

**Written**: 5/2012

* * *

"Henry, could I talk to you in my office, please?" Karen dropped by his desk after lunch with a stern look on her face. If she were talking to anyone else, it would have been clear by the tone of her voice that a dressing down was about to take place.

"Oh! Sure, yeah… just let me finish up this page and I'll be right in." He looked up and flashed a smile, not yet unnerved by her scowl. He assumed it was probably all part of her routine to steal a little time alone.

Karen frowned deeper and declared; "You have five minutes," before returning to her office with a fresh cup of coffee.

"I would not want to be you right now old man," Lassiter groaned from behind his monitor. "The last time she made that face at me, I had to do another six months of department mandated anger management."

Henry shrugged it off, slack-shouldered. "Probably just something about Shawn. No big deal."

Carlton nodded slowly, offering him a somewhat disbelieving shake of his head. He was familiar with her 'Spencer is an idiot' face – he liked that face. After a couple minutes, he asked casually; "You taking the boat out this weekend?"

"If I don't make any plans between then and now, I might." He'd been begging Karen for a weekend together – they could do anything she wanted as long as it was just them together – but so far an uneventful pair of days they both had off just wasn't going to happen.

"Hmm," Lassiter nodded again, "let me know if you're looking for a first mate. I could use the time away."

"What, after last time? There's a good reason it's been…"

"Mister Spencer!" Karen's voice came menacingly from the open door to her office. "If you'd like to keep your badge, I strongly suggest getting in my office. _Now_."

If she was just selling the ruse, she was doing a damn good job. Without further comment, Henry forced himself up to his feet and to her office. "Hey… getting a little impatient for our date night?" He grinned after closing the door, crossing the room quickly before leaning in to give her a small kiss from across the side of the desk.

"Sit down, Henry." Karen frowned again and opened a manila folder with an internal log containing several highlighted lines. "Take a look at this."

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and Henry sat down in front of the file. "What am I looking at here?"

Karen took a deep breath and then let it out with a sigh. "I got an interesting call from the computer forensics guys this morning. Apparently, yesterday one of the computers owned by Eli remotely accessed our database – specifically a traffic camera on the corner near where the alleged murder of

Detective Cooper took place." She didn't pause, her eyes trained on him as she laid out everything she knew; "As you understand, that's of interest to the department. Under further investigation we found that the database was not hacked, in fact the computer was given remote access from your terminal using your user name and password."

"Karen… I…" Henry stammered uselessly, he'd done it, sure, but she had to understand that Shawn needed something to work with and it was such a long shot he didn't think it'd be caught.

"No," she shot back, the lines around her mouth even deeper than before. "Henry, your login information was attached to that relay and I need to know if Shawn did it with or without your knowledge."

Henry looked down at the evidence; he wasn't going to lie to her. Shawn would probably have lied and said that he used Henry's information without even a second thought – but he couldn't bring himself to lie to her even before they were intimate. It wasn't right, even if it meant prosecution; he had to do the right thing. "It was me," he looked up at her stone-faced, "Shawn needed to see if there was anything on that corner that could help, so I went against my better judgment and let him remotely view my screen while I accessed the database. At no time would he have been able to do anything – I had total control."

For a long moment, they were both silent, but he wasn't shocked when Karen spoke again. "What the hell would have convinced you that it was a good idea? It's a felony, Henry. I could not only have your job for this, but have you arrested."

He shook his head, honestly? It hadn't even occurred to him they'd get caught. He figured the chances of a car blowing the light in close proximity to the crime was such a long shot that it wouldn't matter. He should have known better, in hindsight he knew full and well that he was still transmitting protected information over an insecure connection to a civilian. "I… I don't know, Karen. Shawn needed…"

"Shawn needed it. Really, that's the best you can do? It's worth ruining your life because your son needs you to help him on a case he was only part of because his partner fell head over heels for a girl that has her head so far in the clouds she couldn't even testify?" Karen's face drew up into an angry grimace and she looked away. "You know what; over this last year, Shawn has gotten even more careless – which I didn't even think was possible…"

"Karen, I…"

"No, Henry. I'm talking right now and I'm talking to you as someone who cares about you and what happens to you. I will not, I _cannot_, stand by and let you break the law for him. It's your job to make sure his little operation is as legal as possible… not to hinder an investigation by enabling his lie."

"I didn't think he'd actually find anything…"

"You know what, that's even worse. You could have looked on your own and nobody would have ever known. While I may disagree with everything you did, you could have still gotten him the same information without me ever knowing." She lowered her head, her voice taking on a sad tone when she looked back to him; "That was the deal, Henry. As your friend, I will turn a blind eye to small things as long as he's getting the job done. I don't want to know how he gets it done. But I can't ethically allow you to break the law to help him. I mean, how many times does he have to almost get caught before you abandon this charade?"

Humbled, he swallows hard and lets the reality sink in; she doesn't understand. Hell, he didn't understand. As much as he hated the way Shawn went about being a detective, he was a detective – and in a way, that's all Henry ever wanted for him… but on Shawn's terms. He took the position to protect him, to guide him on the straight and narrow and hell, maybe even convince him that he should become a proper detective. He was good, and it hurt to see him be so good at what he does, and break every damn law that crosses his path to do so. "He beat the polygraph months ago, Karen… nobody questions his ability any more. I… I guess I just wanted to help him solve the case."

She sighed again and shook her head, taking the file. "I… I can't do this, Henry. This is exactly what I was afraid would happen. I should fire you for this, at least… I mean, honestly I should turn you in. If it were anyone else, I would turn them in."

"I promise you," he looked her in the eyes, strong and intently, "this will not happen again, I won't put you in this position again."

"No," she nodded, closing the file. "No, you won't, because it's over. I'm going to shred this file and tell Archie that it's been dealt with and the evidence isn't admissible and then you're going to go back to doing what you do and I'll remain blissfully ignorant and not personally invested in your life."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"I'm saying that this relationship was a bad idea and it's hard enough to be your friend and know that in order to keep your son secure, you sometimes have to work outside the strictest letter of the law. Ethically, it was unwise to even consider a relationship with a subordinate."

"A subordinate? Karen, come on… I know that's not what I am to you. We've known each other for decades… I… I really, love…" His mouth wouldn't form the words he knew could save him, he didn't want to be the guy that pulled out the kryptonite in case of emergency to get out of a bad situation that's entirely his own stupid fault. Instead, he stammered; "I love what we have… it's a good thing and… and…" His mind grasping at straws, he unclipped his badge and threw it on her desk; "You want my badge, fine. I'll turn myself in to IA – I'll even take them the file myself. I'll come clean on my role in everything."

"Henry, stop…" she growled, "that's not an option. I'm telling you, this is over, Henry. We can't do this anymore. Not right now, not with where we are professionally."

"Then I'll retire again, I'll write up a letter of resignation…"

"I won't let you. You're not done here, Henry. Shawn needs you and we both know it. If this situation implodes it'll take the credibility of the department with it. I don't think either of us is willing to let that happen."

"So… what, then I'm just supposed to let you go because I did one stupid thing."

"No, you're supposed to let me go because I'm asking you to."

Angry, unable to even form coherent words for a moment, Henry pushed up out of the chair and nodded; "Fine, Karen. If that's what you really want. But if you change your mind, I still care. And I still think we can make this work despite this stupid argument."


	8. Knock at the Door

**Rating**: Teen

**Summary**: At two in the morning, Henry gets a knock on his door.

**Notes**: Written for the older_not_dead promptathon 9. Episode tag for 6x09.

**Spoilers**: Neil Simon's Lover's Retreat

**Prompt**: ?. ?/?. Knock at the door

**Disclaimer**: This is a work of fictional parody in no way intended to infringe upon the rights of any individual or corporate entity. Any and all characters or celebrity personae belong to their rightful owners. Absolutely no money has or will be gained from this work. Please do not publicly link, repost or redistribute without letting me know first.

**Written**: 5/2012

* * *

The night Henry returned from his little adventure in Ojai, he couldn't sleep. It had been a couple weeks since his argument with Karen and she'd barely said two words to him that didn't involve work or coffee. A dozen times, he'd considered calling or texting her – but always stopped short of pressing the button to do so. If she wanted to talk to him, she'd let him know. Going to the bar with Gus, and reluctantly Lassiter, had been fun – hell, it'd even helped his ego to know he still had it in him to get a number from a crazy twenty-something that was into him enough to chase him all the way to the valley – but when it came down to it, he just didn't have it in him to want that anymore.

He didn't want anyone else. He wanted to make it right with Karen and to make her understand how serious he was about giving up his badge to make it work out if that's what it would take. He'd realized months before, after the first time he wanted to beg her not to leave his bed at the end of the night, that he was in deep. He was falling hard and fast… and once he fell in love with her, there'd be no turning back.

After tossing and turning for several hours, well after midnight he went down to the kitchen to throw himself into something he knew would at least create something – in this particular instance a peach cobbler and some breakfast cookies that could hold over a day until he was back at work. Half asleep, letting the smell of warm peaches wrap around him, Henry zoned out leaning against the sink until he heard an unexpected knock at the door.

Concerned with the thought of who'd be at his door at that hour, he went right to it; peeking out the window at the car he hadn't even heard pull up… it was Karen. At two in the in morning, no good could come from her showing up instead of calling. "What's wrong?" He asked as he opened the door, eyeing her closely. She was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, her hair pulled back and traces of her nightly regimen of eye cream and facial cleanser were apparent on the clean skin. Her eyes were red and rimmed with dark circles – she'd been crying, and clearly about as starved for sleep as he was. "Karen…"

"No, it's fine… I was in the neighborhood and saw your light was on and thought I'd check in on you." He knew it was a brush off, her usual way of saying 'don't worry about me, I don't want to talk about it' when she knew eventually they would.

"Karen, you live on the other side of town… you don't have a reason to be in my neighborhood."

She laughed without humor; "Yeah, funny that." She shook her head and padded toward the smells coming from his kitchen in her bunny slippers. "I thought the same thing last night…" she scoffed; "…and the night before that and last Thursday when Mister Guster's car was in my spot…"

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked quietly.

As though she didn't hear him, Karen continued; "Ha! I guess, I guess I've been watching and coming by and hoping maybe you'd call me and we could talk again and everything would be okay… or maybe I'd see your light still on at two in the morning and smell pie when you opened the door – and oh god, tell me that's a peach cobbler…"

"Karen." His voice took on a firm tone as he gently grasped her arms from behind; "You're exhausted, babe… what's going on here?"

"And Henry Spencer, damn super cop has to ask me what's going on…" she laughed again, sharp and jittery. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Shh…" Henry pulled her against his chest, holding her close in an attempt to get her to relax. After a long moment, she turned and rested her head against his shoulder – hitching a silent sob as she tried to speak. "It's okay, Karen. I'm here, we can talk… but we don't have to if you don't want to."

Slowly, she pulled away from his embrace and nodded as she sat heavily in a dining room chair. "I, uh… I guess you had a bit of an adventure today," she said, rubbing her tired, sad eyes.

Chuckling softly, Henry nodded – pretty sure it was safe to leave her be long enough to take out the baked goods and pour cold water for both of them. "Yeah, well – it's not every day you get chased by a crazy 20-something and end up locked in a sauna and then take part in a balloon chase in a Ferrari. I've decided that women in bars, steam rooms and any vehicle with Carlton Lassiter behind the wheel are on my list of things to avoid."

Karen laughed, a little more genuinely than before; "I heard about the sauna and the Ferrari – but you picked up a woman in a bar?" Her voice sounds almost hurt at the question, and Henry regretted saying it immediately.

"No, well… it's…" he stammered, bringing over their water before sitting down at the head of the table and looking her dead on. "Me and Gus and Lassiter went out for a couple drinks the other night and sort of got into this stupid bet about who could get a number first. And after I made the rounds of the limited number of women even close to my age, I went back to the bar where I started talking with this girl. And apparently, it turns out she's some sort of freak that's really into the whole… _older man_ thing." He shook his head more at himself than anything else. "I guess part of me was kind of strutting a bit when I was the only one that got a number…"

"Gus didn't even get one, I mean… I can see why Lassiter wouldn't, but Gus is a pretty nice catch…"

"Who comes on stronger than a Mac truck and scares the hell out of any girl that isn't even crazier than the one I pulled."

Karen shrugged and then was quiet for a long moment, sipping her water. Eventually, she asked; "So, you two, uh… did you…"

"What, me? And her?" His eyes shot open wide and he shook his head almost frantically. "No, no way… not even with somebody else's dick." Closing his eyes for a second, he took in a deep breath and corrected himself; "Okay, that was maybe too far, but still… no. I'm just, you know… even if she wasn't almost young enough to be a kid that Shawn could have babysat when he was in junior high; I'm just not in the market right now." He looked back up at her, a little sheepish and almost hoping she wouldn't call him on what he was saying.

"So, you're not… looking?" She asked, staring down into her water.

He shook his head; "No, I'm… I'm done. Figure I had a couple good shots and blew it, may as well throw in the towel on that."

Quiet again for another drawn out moment that should have been awkward but somehow wasn't, Karen replied with a near whisper; "Henry… the, uh… the divorce papers were finalized last week. I meant to tell you, but with everything that's been going on and the thing with Shawn…"

"I understand," he said easily, nodding toward her – wishing it were easier to reach across the table and hold her again. Maybe, just maybe, things were going to be okay. Maybe that's why she was in his kitchen at two in the morning looking like hell and failing at conversation. "It'll be good for you to start dating again, meeting other men and seeing what's out there."

A sound halfway between a laugh and a sob seized her throat and she lowered her head, her breathing ragged and shoulders clearly squared to as though fighting back the urge to flee. "Damn it, Henry…" her voice dropped to a low whine that he'd never heard before – it was unnerving compared to her usually confident tone. "How the hell do you do that?"

"I don't… what?"

She looked back up at him, her eyes glossy with fresh tears; "I don't want to feel like this, Henry." Karen sighed loudly and rubbed her eyes again and he could see the nearly washed away track of the day's mascara on the outside of her palm – she really had been fighting it all day. "I'm tired of being angry, and I'm tired of feeling alone and confused and like the only place I belong is here with you."

"Karen, I…"

She continued as though stopping would mean never being able to finish her thought. "I should have fired you, Henry. I should have accepted your resignation and been able to keep you all to myself," she let out another high-pitched humorless laugh; "but that'd be selfish, and Santa Barbra needs you just as much as I do… and if I've learned anything in the last five years it's that she comes before I do."

"I'll resign, if you want me to. The department did just fine without me before, it'll be fine again." He reached across the table and took her hand, holding it tightly. "I love you, Karen. And I know it's soon to say it, but I need to. I need you to know that how I feel about you means more to me than policing Shawn and playing like I'm a detective again."

A slow, but even smile crossed her lips, and then curved to a deep frown and she looked back down to her water as a fat tear rolled down her cheek – leaving a track in her firming cream. "Damn it," she shook her head; "I can't let you do that."

He squeezed her hand again, lacing their fingers together until she looked up at him with those same heavy eyes. "Then don't. We'll step back to the way things were before I screwed up. Give me another chance…" he leaned in close enough to smell her soap and toothpaste, "give us another chance."

Without hesitation, she leaned in and kissed him – both hands coming up to cup his cheeks and hold him there until she was breathless and shaking. "Okay…" she whispered, closing her eyes when she sat back up; "we can do that…"

"Look at me, Karen…" he said, taking both of her hands in his. "Please."

Slowly, she did – wetness visible under her light lashes and then finally staining her soft eyes. She was exhausted, but seemed relieved and looked at him with that same warmth she'd had when he told her that he might feelings for her what seemed like half an age before. "We'll try again."

He nodded; "I know. That's not what I want you to hear." Before she could interrupt, he said; "I love you, and I want you to know that. Do you understand, Karen? I… _love you_."

She studied him, her eyes boring into his as though searching for some sense of a lie that wasn't there. Finally, she said; "I know." She couldn't say it yet herself; her wounds were still too fresh from the last man she'd loved, but knowing she understood was enough for him. "I'd like to say tonight, Henry… may I?"

Smiling, softly but surely, Henry replied; "I thought you'd never ask."


	9. Discovering

**Rating**: Teen

**Summary**: Henry and Karen find out that the unexpected can always happen.

**Notes**: Written for older_not_dead promptathon 9: New Beginnings. I tried to keep this as realistic as possible, apologies in advance for this part and the next.

**Prompt**: ?. ?/?. Discovering to Have a Child

**Warnings**: Unplanned pregnancy.

**Disclaimer**: This is a work of fictional parody in no way intended to infringe upon the rights of any individual or corporate entity. Any and all characters or celebrity personae belong to their rightful owners. Absolutely no money has or will be gained from this work. Please do not publicly link, repost or redistribute without letting me know first.

**Written**: 5/2012

* * *

Henry groaned and rubbed his eyes when he heard the loud ringtone on his phone drawing him out of sleep. Bleary-eyed, he checked the clock; 10:37 – he'd fallen asleep on the couch again. "Better be good," he groaned, checking the call ID. "Hey, babe… figured you'd be in bed by now."

"I need you," Karen's voice gasped on the other end.

He chuckled low in his throat; "Mmm, is that so? Need me to come over and tuck you in?"

She groaned loudly and took a labored breath, making his stomach sink – it was definitely not a late night booty call. "Not like that, Henry," she groaned again; "I need you to come get me…"

When she finished her sentence retching on the other end, he told her he was on his way and headed right for the truck. The nighttime traffic was thankfully light, of course it helped that no cop in the county would hold him for going ten over the limit, but he managed door to door in less than twenty minutes to find Karen sitting on to front stoop in her nightshirt and slippers with a bottled water and a bucket close at hand.

"You look like hell," he murmured, rushing to her. Helping her up was easy enough, she practically felt like a rag doll against his shoulder.

She groaned and leaned heavily against him as he led her toward the truck; "Feel like hell. Think it's just the stomach flu…"

"You're dehydrated," Henry cut her off, almost lifting her into the truck before dragging the seatbelt across her chest.

"I can do my own seatbelt, damn it…"

"Come on; let's get you to the ER. Need me to get Iris?" Karen's husband's car was in the drive, but he needed to ask – if she wanted her girl there, she'd be there.

Karen shook her head and closed her eyes; "No, she's sleeping… I can call my nephew if it'll be late."

He didn't have to ask twice, only slid behind the wheel and took off. Getting her through triage was easy enough, weeknights weren't too bad and a frustrated guy with a woman that pukes every time she takes a drink of water tend to move up a little faster on the roster than the guy with allergies and the drunk girl that fell off a curb.

"Are you her husband?" A young resident came in to check Karen's vitals after the nurse had run a line for rehydration and sent out to the pharmacy for anti-nausea medication.

Karen's eye's narrowed and she said weakly; "I don't see where that matters… he brought me in, I'm the Chief of Police – I think he's got every…"

"No, I understand Mrs. Vick – I just thought he might be able to answer some…"

"I'm well enough to answer your questions, what do you need to know?" She glowered at him and Henry merely smiled, excusing himself to sit quietly by her side.

"Right, of course…" the resident physician replied, obviously flustered. "Okay, how long have you been experiencing the nausea and vomiting?"

She considered it a long moment; "Uh, I guess about a week or so for the nausea and the vomiting didn't start until two days ago."

"Two days? Jesus, Karen… you could have told me…"

"And you would have worried, Henry. It was fine."

"And you were nauseous for over a week before that?" The doctor asked, more calmly.

"Yes, sometimes when I get sick it's been coming on for a couple weeks before it hits me. So I've been a little twitchy around strong smells. It isn't a big deal." She closed her eyes and swallowed visibly; "I've also been really tired, but with the number of cases we've fielded this month I haven't been sleeping either."

"I see;" the doctor nodded; "and have you been sexually active in the last six months?"

"That is hardly any of your business!" Karen tried to sit up only to have Henry's hand firmly on her chest – gently pushing her down.

"That's got nothing to do with anything, kiddo – let that question go." Henry added in a menacing tone.

The doctor sighed and marked on her chart; "It's standard procedure, Ma'm. We have to rule out alternative diagnoses – usually gastroenteritis comes with headache, fever, maybe some cramping… it's not very likely that's the problem. Until your bloodwork comes back we just want to rule out what we can."

She frowned and reluctantly answered; "Yes, yes I'm sexually active… but I'm forty-five, the chances of being…"

"And your last menstrual period?"

"Oh god…" Henry sighed, leaning back in his chair before fidgeting with his baseball cap. He knew all too well where those questions were headed, and the last time he'd heard them they didn't go well. Granted, the last time he'd heard them was thirty-six years ago in a doctor's office with a wife that'd skipped two periods even though she was on the pill.

"Shut up," Karen whispered toward Henry, clearly just annoyed with his assumption as she was the doctor's question. After a deep breath, she said; "Just over two months, but I was diagnosed as perimenopausal last year and I'm still experiencing the symptoms. I can't be pregnant; it's just not biologically possible."

The doctor made a small, noncommittal sound in the back of his throat. "I understand, Ma'm – it is highly improbable…"

"No, not possible," her voice took on a threatening tone that made it very clear the subject wasn't up to discussion.

Nodding, the resident made the note in her chart and took it with him as he left.

A long silent moment fell between them; Henry turned on the television and flipped through the channels until landing on one of the late-late hosts interviewing some second banana from a show on basic cable. When it became clear Karen wasn't going to say anything, he asked; "So, what was that about?"

She didn't respond for a long moment, and then quietly said; "I don't like personal questions."

"Yeah, I get the impression you were a little more worried about the implication you might be…"

"Don't say it, Henry. I'm not. You heard the doctor."

"I heard him say it's unlikely…"

"Come on, Henry!" She growled, turning her head to give him a dirty look; "I'm forty-five, you're fifty-seven. Between the two of us fertility is… is… just about zero." Wisely, he kept his mouth shut and let her close her eyes – focusing on the low beep of her pulse monitor. After several long minutes, Karen said; "We would have used protection if either of us thought it was an issue. It's stupid, Henry. Just the doctors trying to figure out why I don't have a headache with the stomach flu. I don't know, maybe it's my gallbladder or something."

"Yeah," he answered dryly, reaching up to cup her hand on the bed; "maybe."

Slowly, she turned her hand to let their fingers lace together, squeezing him gently. "It's not possible," she said again, less fervently than before.

Henry squeezed back, hesitating before he responded; "Keep saying that and maybe you'll believe it."

"What are you implying, Henry?"

He held fast to her hand. "Nothing."

"Yeah, well it seems like you're siding with the idiot resident physician that's not going to have a job when the real doctors get here and tell me I have the stomach flu."

He hesitated again; "And if you are?"

Karen sighed; "Henry, look me in the eyes and tell me you really think I could possibly be pregnant."

Slowly, Henry turned toward her with sleepy eyes and a soft expression. "Maybe it is a possibility."

She laughed without humor. "When I conceived Iris, my doctor told me it was some kind of miracle that I was able to at all. If my chances were that slim six years ago, there is no way in hell it's even an option now. Don't let the doctor's stupid routine questions make you think otherwise."

"You started it." Henry pulled away and crossed his arms over his chest. "It doesn't matter, even if you were, there's no way we could raise a baby."

Obviously hurt, Karen scoffed at him and offered a much more aggressive frown; "And what exactly do you mean by that? Are you saying I'm a bad mother?"

"No, I'm not saying that at all," he responded calmly. "I'm saying that we're getting older, and let's face it… you're still in the middle of divorcing your husband. We don't even have our own life together, by the time we get Iris settled in to the idea that the divorce is final, we're still not going to be prepared to have a baby in the house."

"Don't you dare bring Iris into this discussion, Henry Spencer."

"I'm saying she's an amazing kid with enough on her plate to have to think about Mommy and the old guy having a baby."

The remark hung between them for a long moment and then Karen laughed dryly. "It doesn't matter, I'm not pregnant."

Henry rolled his eyes, trying to stifle the urge to say what's on his mind. Unsuccessfully. "You sound like you almost want to have a baby."

"Don't be stupid, Henry. It's not going to happen."

"That doesn't matter. Do you want it to happen?"

For a long moment she was silent, and Henry had assumed she wasn't going to respond at all. Forcing himself to focus on anything but the argument they weren't having, Henry listened to a band on the _Late Show_ he'd never heard of playing a cover of a song they were too young to have heard when it was released – and it was crap then. And then, softly, she admitted; "You're right, Henry. It's selfish to even think that way."

Henry raised an eyebrow; "You seriously want another kid?"

"No… yes, and no. I mean, maybe it would be nice to have a family with you, but we're too old for that."

"Karen;" he squeezed her hand again, standing up to bend over the bedrail and kiss her forehead. "We have a family. Me and you and Iris – and don't forget Shawn and Gus… hell, may as well throw in the whole damn SBPD… feels like they're already your kids."

She sighed, but a small smile clung to her lips. Henry and Iris had slowly started to spend more time together – even before the divorce proceedings had started. The five year old knew, as best as a kindergartener could, that Henry wasn't just another guy with a badge… he was someone Mommy cared very much about.

Before they could dwell on it much longer, the door opened and a new doctor came in. "Mrs. Vick?"

"Yes, doctor… any idea what this is so I can start eating again and go back to work?"

The doctor nodded slowly and set her chart down on the counter by the sink, and then retrieved a small doppler device from a drawer. Henry recognized it right away, and knew that Karen would as well. "There's no easy way to say this," he started as he pulled on a pair of gloves; "but I'm afraid you are pregnant. The blood test confirms it."

"No." She let out a nearly hysterical laugh, shaking her head; "It's not possible – you've got to be joking. Henry, tell me he's joking."

"Karen…" Henry started, gripping her hand tightly again.

"I've got an order in for an ultrasound to determine gestational age, but they won't be able to see you until morning – we're backed up with internal injuries in emergency. I'd like to keep you overnight, just to make sure you're gonna be able to at least keep down liquids."

She watched, wide-eyed and stunned as he took a bottle of gel from his coat pocket and approached the bedside. "You don't understand, I can't be pregnant. I'm perimenopausal... I'm… I'm in the middle of a divorce and I can't be a mother of two…"

Ever calm, the doctor looked down at her gown and asked; "May I attempt to get a fetal sound?"

Karen whined audibly, clenching Henry's fingers as she tugged up the gown with her bad arm – wiggling the IV line but unwilling to let go. "It's impossible, I'm telling you…"

"It's rare," the doctor corrected, "but I've read case studies of women over fifty conceiving and even carrying to term."

Henry spoke before Karen could further work herself up, a sinking sensation in his gut when heard the splat of the thick gel across her stomach followed by the dull wah-woo of the doppler being turned on to search for a heartbeat; "How rare are we talking, Doctor? I mean, what're the chances of making this happen?"

The doctor ran the wand high up, toward the top of her uterine wall, slowly sliding it in search of the right sound. "Actual conception? Slim, but it happens – obviously. Carrying to term?" he sighed; "Miscarriages are pretty common in this high of a risk category – maybe as high as eighty percent."

Henry swallowed hard, feeling Karen's hand crush down on his. "So, it's more likely than not…"

"They're just numbers." The doctor shrugged; "But, Karen, you need to understand that you're exceptionally high risk. Not only due to your age, but you've got a very high stress job that according to your previous OB; you refused to leave last time you were pregnant. On top of that, with your previous history of miscarriages… it's not looking good."

Henry's eyes shot back to Karen's face – she looked withdrawn like he'd never seen her before. At least that explained her certainty that getting pregnant wasn't even possible.

Shaking his head, the doctor set aside the doppler and wiped her belly clean. "Too soon to get anything this way, but we'll get you up to a room and see what's going on in the morning."

Karen nodded silently, her grip on Henry's fingers slowly letting up. "God…" she whispered once the doctor had left the room, a sob lingering just on the edge of her voice.

"Karen, I didn't…"

"Nobody knew, Henry." She swallowed hard, "It was between me and my medical record. My husband didn't even know." Her breathing hitched and Henry leaned over the bedrail to kiss her again. "We'd been trying for five years when Iris came along…" she scoffed, her lips trembling as she fought back the tears; "I thought maybe after three times that didn't make it past the fourth month – she was meant to be."

"Well…. Maybe this time…" Henry tried to comfort her, his voice stopping when her fingers clenched even tighter – weak from going so long without keeping down food or water, but still tight enough to get his attention.

"You heard him. Eighty percent is the best case scenario – and we both know how stacked the odds are."

He sat down heavily in the chair beside her and didn't say anything until they were moved out of emergency to share a room with a drape between them and a coma patient. Finally, he asked; "How do we proceed?"

After swallowing a mouthful of ice chips, carefully chewing each tiny piece to draw out her thoughts, Karen answered; "We don't do anything. We'll go to work and I'll keep up on my doctor's checks and if this time I make it far enough for people to tell, we'll figure it out from there."


	10. Out of Death New Life

**Rating**: Teen

**Summary**: The best way to cope with loss is to remember the life that's still being created.

**Notes**: Written for older_not_dead promptathon 9: New Beginnings.

**Prompt**: ?. ?/?. Out of Death; Comes New Life

**Warnings**: Miscarriage

**Disclaimer**: This is a work of fictional parody in no way intended to infringe upon the rights of any individual or corporate entity. Any and all characters or celebrity personae belong to their rightful owners. Absolutely no money has or will be gained from this work. Please do not publicly link, repost or redistribute without letting me know first.

**Written**: 5/2012

* * *

When they found out she was pregnant, the doctor's measurements estimated Karen was nearly nine weeks along. Both of them publicly played ignorant outside the obstetrician's office – blindly pretending just like they did with their relationship. Nothing happening, nothing to see here. It took a week to get fully back to normal; even after the debacle of Shawn doing reality TV there was a haze of nights neither would admit were sleepless. The second week it was easier to pretend, Henry spent much of it watching Karen idly sip decaf and fruit juice at her desk as she approved reports. Somehow, at the end of it he managed to coordinate a full day off together to take Karen and Iris out on Cachuma.

He'd never admit it, but watching the little girl lounging in a deck chair with her Disney Princesses rod in one hand and a juice box in the other made Henry just a little reminiscent of the times he'd taken Shawn and Gus out as kids. Granted, they spent most of those trips in the water pretending to drown or in the cabin playing cards while Iris had taken quite naturally to relaxing in the afternoon sun with her floppy hat drawn down over her eyes to sneak a nap, but it was still nice. Karen laid out on the deck in a one-piece and shorts with a book, occasionally stealing glances at them with their lines in the water; it was sort of like a proper family again.

That night, the first night Iris had been put down in Shawn's old bed under the Spencer roof, Karen came to bed with red rings around her eyes and he didn't need to ask. "Karen," he wrapped his arms around shoulders, drawing her closer against him and pressing warm kisses to her face, "we'll be okay." She sniffed hard and rubbed her face against the inside of his shoulder, silently sobbing into his shirt as he stroked over her hair in an attempt to comfort her. "We'll be all right."

She sniffed harder and nodded, several minutes passing as she calmed herself. Then, finally, she let out a soft sigh and looked up at him from her favorite spot – curled against his side. "I know… I guess I just sort of got used to the idea."

He squeezed her even tighter and kissed her forehead, watching her soft expression in the dimly lit room. "I know. But, you know… we're good. I mean, I'm not going anywhere and I'm pretty sure Iris is taking a shine to me…"

"Are you kidding? In the bathroom on the way home all she could talk about was how cool it was that you caught that big fish and let it go when she cried."

"Hey, she named it Nemo. I'm not a heartless bastard."

"Definitely not, which is why I bought you the Captain's Platter at Crab Shack Willy's." She managed a slight smile; "Which I must add, you did a fine job of calling 'ocean chicken'."

He chuckled under his breath; "Hey, Shawn went through that phase back in '86 when their teacher thought it'd be a good idea to take them to a cattle ranch. Couldn't eat steak for a month until I started calling it 'land fish'."

"Have you always been an evil genius?"

"Mmm…" he pretended to consider the question; "…I prefer to call it creative parenting." He could be very creative when he needed to be.

"Yeah, well… whatever you did to Shawn – you know you're not making my daughter a 'psychic', right?" She threatened, only a little serious.

Henry let out a slight laugh, rocking himself until he turned fully on his side to face her – pressing a kiss to her lips. "The world can't handle another kid like Shawn."

She nodded, and then sighed again; "You know, we would have had a beautiful baby, right?"

"Don't think about it, Karen." Another long silence fell between them and Henry drew her head against his shoulder again, rubbing along her shoulders through the thick cotton of her nightshirt. "Things are the way they're meant to be."

"What, hiding at your house because I don't want to go home when my ex-husband's there?"

Henry let his chin rest gently on the top of her head and answered; "No, spending the night where you belong."

"Henry…" she whispered, "you know we can't live together… we can't even let on that we're doing this at the office." The rules of the 'affair'; nobody knows, especially not at work where she could lose her job for fraternizing with a department employee – not to mention disgraced for what the media would certainly turn into some sordid affair between a married woman and some old loser. She'd be crucified if anyone found out.

"I know that. But, soon… I mean, your divorce should be worked out by Christmas and maybe it's time for me to…"

"No," she chided, "the SBPD needs you, Henry. I'm not going to lose the work you do for the department."

Holding his tongue, always sure to be very delicate about that particular continuing argument, Henry nodded against her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "You need me, Karen… and I need you. Right here."

"Oh, Henry…" she sighed again, pressing the flat of her palm against his chest. "Just… not right now, okay? I'm not ready."

It was good enough for that night; they both knew eventually Henry was going to retire – and that it would be sooner rather than later. And as far as Henry was concerned, she didn't have to agree with it – it would be final.

The next morning Henry made breakfast and after Karen left for work, watched _Dora the Explorer_ with Iris before dropping her off at school. After a stop at Home Depot and a local nursery, he lugged a young pear tree into the back yard. Planting went easily enough, and when he sat by the freshly planted tree sweaty and dirty from the job, it felt right.

"God doesn't make mistakes," he murmured to himself, taking out his wallet to withdraw a folded black and white image from the first and only ultrasound – the only photograph of a child that never was – and then tucked it deep into the fresh, wet earth where it belonged. "It was the right thing to do."

He spent the rest of the afternoon alone with a bottle of cheap scotch and a John Wayne marathon; by the time Karen texted to let him know that the case had wrapped and she was heading home for the night, it was all he could do to reply; _ planted pears in the yard for my favorite girls. Come over tomorrow and we can show Iris._


End file.
